Professor McGonogall's Dirty Secret
by WagonWheel
Summary: What happens when Professor McGonogall's illegitimate child goes to Hogwarts? And who is the father? Nobody knows, until now...


**Professor McGonogall's Dirty Secret   
  
Chapter One   
  
Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of Harry Potter, I am just…er…_borrowing_ for my twisted creativity.   
  
**A/N:** This is a very odd fanfiction, I must say. LoL…ok…the idea came to me when I was talking to my older sister in my kitchen, when we were discussing how 'cool' it would be if Harry Potter were real, cause we're huge fans. And I was like… "I would totally be a witch. I'd get to date Draco Malfoy!" But my sister says, one thing Mal, you'd be a mudblood if you were a witch. I was like…hmmm…and that's how this story was made!! This story is in my POV a fair portion of the time (lord save you all) and I'm special because I'm American…but in this story British… and going to Hogwarts. lol :D Lets begin…shall we? Oh, and because I'm 15…I guess I'll have to make myself grow a year older…hehe. Oh, and I'm changing my last name to McDermott. I don't need to be stalked.   
  
  
  
Thump. Thump. Bang. Louder bang. Rolling over in my plain purple sheets, I glared at the door. Someone was waking me up at quarter to six. In the morning. Groaning, I yelled a muffled 'go away', but the bangs continued. They just could not quit.   
  
"Mallory Rose McDermott, get your lazy butt out of bed!" My mother screeched from the other side of my far-too-thin wooden door. Good morning to you, mom. My mother's evil actions just forced me to cover my head with my fluffy pillow. Maybe another pillow would work…   
  
Regardless of my attempted silence, I could still hear the loud bangs coming from my mom's beastly pre-coffee snarl. La la la la la…can't hear you…   
  
Suddenly the air in the room moved and I heard my mom's fluffy slippers 'zip' across my rug. The noise stopped when I predicted she had stopped in front of me.   
  
"Do you _plan_ on missing the train today?" she asked shrilly. Oh, I can imagine her now. Hands on hips, face intensely red, curly hair standing on end resembling Medusa.   
  
"No, that's not on the agenda for today," I said, face muffled into my pillow. We had gone through this routine every single September for six years now. Does she honestly think I'll pull myself out of bed before six?   
  
Rolling over after my mother so kindly slapped my butt, I saw her take a nice field trip around my room. Lifting her nose up at things that were perfectly normal.   
  
"Jeez Mal, this room is a pigsty!" she exclaimed, looking at me like I had any power over how a pig lives.   
  
"Oh yes, considering the mud over in that corner and poop covered hay on my bed. I can see the resemblance," I said sarcastically, finally sitting up, feeling very heavy all of a sudden. Although my attempt to move seemed to please my mom, as she abruptly left my room. Standing up and walking to my bathroom I saw what scared people at night. My face…   
  
I had dark circles and pale lips. I looked like a dead person in a Freddy movie. My long, straight, brown hair, which had been in a ponytail, was drastically sticking out at ungodly angles. I looked like death.   
  
To top off the world's worst morning, I dropped my soap in the shower and when I went to pick it up it hit my head on the dimpled glass door, I got shampoo in my eye, saw an unnaturally large spider on my ceiling, and cut my leg shaving. Oh, what a fine morning it was.   
  
Plus my favorite tee shirt was nicely packed away compliments of my mother and I was forced to wear my tight, see through white tee shirt, and my favorite worn-in pair of denim jeans. Grabbing my flip-flops and my purse, I walked down my stairs, and walked into my kitchen. My mom was sitting at the table sipping light coffee reading 'Us' magazine, most likely getting the biggest gossip of the week, and my father was making an omelet. No offense to my dad, but I hate his omelets. I really do. How I envied my older sister, Molly, who was lucky enough to sleep in everyday. College students suck.   
  
"Mallie Bird," my dad said. Oh no, he used the nickname. That nickname… "I want you to have a great year. And maybe you can come home for Christmas this year?" he asked. Oh yeah…that's really what I want to do. Live with the family that has driven me mad in the last 16 years.   
  
"I'll think about it dad. Mom, can we leave?" I asked abruptly. Please, please, please get me out of here before that man in the paint stained jeans force-feeds me the omelet.   
  
"Sure honey," my mom said. I really underestimate the women. "After you have some breakfast."   
  
  
  
--   
  
  
  
I could not have been happier to be left on the train, alone, without the McDermott clan. My mom decided to yell after me as I ran to the barrier, "Tell the train driver to go slow!". Is it even possible for a train to go slow? Is there even such a thing called a 'train driver'? Now, sitting alone in a train compartment couldn't be more fun. Oh yeah. It's great. Ugh, Harry Potter just walked by. I hate Harry so much, he's as boring as a stoplight on a dead end street. And that whole 'I'm-a-superhero-praise-me-forever' bit is getting old, also.   
  
Then, as if every ray of light followed him, Draco Malfoy sauntered through my compartment. Mm…break me off a piece of that. The man was gorgeous. I must have looked so odd, considering the look he was giving me. I tried to smile, but my lips warped into this goofy grin that contorted my face. He raised a platinum eyebrow at me. I wonder if he's a natural blonde…   
  
"What are you looking at, _Mudblood_," he asked me venomously. Ouch, that hurt. Er, um…hmm…I wish I wasn't a muggle-born…. Hell, he'd probably propose to me this second if I were some spawn of Voldermort. Maybe not…oh why the hell not.   
  
"I'm no mudblood, Malfoy," I said. Can you believe I could speak a coherent sentence around Hogwarts's very own Sex God?   
  
"Oh really. You're no 'Spawn of Satan'," he said cockily. His smirk was growing increasingly large by the minute.   
  
"Well, not Spawn of Satan, per say…" This definitely caught his attention. "Yeah, you see, I was adopted at birth. My biological father is Lord Voldermort. Yeah…such a pity, eh? And me mum, me mum is Ol' McGonogall. Yeah…you see, student teacher relations really shouldn't happen. Look what comes of them…"   
  
By then Draco was staring at me like I had eight heads. The smirk was gone. An utter look of pure confusion had replaced it.   
  
  
  
Draco Malfoy floated through each train compartment; looking for the two lumps of lard he called his friends. Stopping as he felt eyes on him, he saw that weird girl gaping at him like a fish. Then her face contorted into a look of pain, which he told himself just might be an attempted smile.   
  
A muggle born smiling at Draco Malfoy? Boy, did he feel dirty. Who was that girl anyway? She had never really said a word to him, but he knew she was in Ravenclaw.   
  
"What are you looking at, _Mudblood_?" he asked her with a slight hint of venom dripping from his voice. She raised a dark brown eyebrow, but it fell quickly. She looked like she was contemplating something in her head, she was biting down on her bottom lip, and she was squinting her eyes to make her look like a hungry gerbil…   
  
"I'm no mudblood, Malfoy," she said. So, that's what her voice sounded like…Wait, what was she talking about? How couldn't she be a mudblood…Muggle parents, no other explanation. She was a mudblood.   
  
"Oh really," Draco scoffed. He sounded very much like a bitter prom queen at that moment. "You're no 'Spawn of Satan'," he said, sounding pleased with himself. Someone take this boy to the ego inflation chamber.   
  
"Well…" she said slowly. What was she going to say? 'My daddy's Professor Flitwick'? Now that he thought about it, he could see the resemblance… "Not the 'Spawn of Satan' per say…"   
  
Now Draco was totally and utterly confused. What did she mean, 'per say'? Just by talking to that girl made his IQ drop about 10 points. Mallory must have noted his confusion, because she continued talking, which she was good at, without him telling her to do so.   
  
"Yeah, you see, I was adopted at birth. My biological father is Lord Voldermort. Yeah…such a pity, eh? And me mum, me mum is Ol' McGonogall. Yeah…you see, student teacher relations really shouldn't happen. Look what comes of them…"   
  
Draco stood before the girl who was sitting Indian-style in her seat, with her long hair cascading down her back. His mouth opened the tinniest bit, and he was sure he looked like a fool. Before anyone of them could say anything, he turned and walked out, feeling totally dumfounded. So _this_ is how Crabbe and Goyle feel…   
  
  
  
-   
  
  
  
  
  
I gazed stupidly as Draco backed out of my compartment, looking as though he was escaping a band of biting fleas. I could be extremely stupid at times. It astonishes me. By now I'm thinking about what he's thinking about me. Huffing as I look out the window, I come to terms with myself; I decide that life is just _not_ fair sometimes. I want Draco, badly. With an immense passion that's burning with the heat of one thousand suns. No, _two_ thousand suns. Yeah, that'll do it. _He'll never have you_, the mini-Mallory devil said, suddenly sitting on my left shoulder. That damn devil, she's always telling me what I know, and everything I know is bad. _You should move on. That Harry Potter is a nice, wholesome boy_, my angel said. She obviously doesn't know me very well. _Screw wholesome. Draco is a sex god. Have you seen those biceps?_ You see, I think my devil and I can get along fairly well. _Premarital sex is a sin. Sinners are never winners_; I stared at my right shoulder incredulously as I watched the angel form of me say that. It just looked so bad, coming out of my mouth…   
  
"Shut up, you old bag," I said, blocking out any hearing from the aforementioned angel. Angel my ass. Whoops, there goes a sin. Swearing under the influence of eleven year olds. Aww…they'll have to live.   
  
I truly believe from that day that I was going mad. Although, I liked the way my devil thought. I could get Draco. Hell yeah, I can get Draco. I could get Draco if I were 50 years old with wrinkly skin and saggy boobs. Well, maybe not saggy boobs, there is surgery for that now… 


End file.
